


Remember Us

by porkcutletbowltrash



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Lots of Crying, M/M, Sobbing, Temporary Amnesia, Viktor gets into an accident, comforting yakov, comforting yuri, i hate myself for writing this, implied depression, kind of traumatic event?, two years forgotten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12189774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porkcutletbowltrash/pseuds/porkcutletbowltrash
Summary: He took down wedding photos and pictures of the two of them with Makkachin. He gathered some clothes and placed them in the guest room for Viktor and made up the guest bed. He couldn’t bear taking the traces of his love for Viktor from the Master bedroom; that was the place that he and Viktor shared for the past year and a half. If Viktor’s memories never came back; he wanted that space in memoriam of their love until he could have Viktor fall in love with him once more.The had fed Viktor the story that he and Yuuri had been flatmates (which wasn’t necessarily untrue) and that Yuuri would be watching over him while he recovered from the head trauma. Life seemed to go into an eerily normal routine. Viktor would occasionally ask him about different things that he couldn’t remember, but the fact that they were married and in love never came up into the conversation. Slowly over time, Yuuri would slip one of the pictures he had taken down back on the wall, to try to jog Viktor’s memory, but the silver head would smile and laugh at the goofy faces he and Yuuri made together.“We’re still close then!” He would tell Yuuri, “I’m so glad that didn’t change.”





	Remember Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovelies! So, my inner darkness came out while I was at work today and this lovely idea popped into my head. I already hate myself for writing this because I was crying the whole time I wrote it. I did some research into amnesia and the treatments to help it, so if things seem a little off or not portrayed in the correct way, I'm sorry. Next fic, I promise, will be fluff loaded after this.

_Mr. Katsuki, there is a probability of your husband’s memory being affected from the fall. We won’t know the extent of it until he regains consciousness._

That’s what the doctors at the Emergency Room had told him as he laid next to his unconscious silver haired lover. The fall had been so fast and so sudden that Yuuri himself had a hard time remembering what had happened in those few seconds. If only, Viktor would’ve let go of him; would’ve let him fall maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they were now. Maybe they wouldn’t be living together like strangers, having separate rooms and being friendly to one another in passing instead of sharing the king-sized bed at night, trading sleepy kisses in the morning and arguing about whose turn it was to do the dishes.

Maybe Viktor would be in love with him again.

 _He seems to be suffering from Retrograde Amnesia, Mr. Katsuki. He should still remember who people are, but certain events he most likely won’t remember._ He had watched as Viktor looked at him with a cheery smile, but would shy away whenever Yuuri would try to place a soft kiss on his cheek. He could see the look of confusion on his husbands face. He remembered screaming at the doctor; asking, pleading for treatment for Viktor; begging to bring him back. _We don’t know how long this will last – if he will regain those memories he lost. The best we can do is try a few different therapies and work on slowly introducing those memories to him._

So, he left Yuri with Viktor that night and went home and did as the doctors suggested. He took down wedding photos and pictures of the two of them with Makkachin. He gathered some clothes and placed them in the guest room for Viktor and made up the guest bed. He couldn’t bear taking the traces of his love for Viktor from the Master bedroom; that was the place that he and Viktor shared for the past year and a half. If Viktor’s memories never came back; he wanted that space in memoriam of their love until he could have Viktor fall in love with him once more.

The had fed Viktor the story that he and Yuuri had been flatmates (which wasn’t necessarily untrue) and that Yuuri would be watching over him while he recovered from the head trauma. Life seemed to go into an eerily normal routine. Viktor seemed to be growing happier and becoming accustomed to Yuuri hovering. Yuuri would take him to EMDR Therapy and Hypnosis sessions twice a week, trying to help regain some of those memories from pre-amnesia. Viktor would occasionally ask him about different things that he couldn’t remember, but the fact that they were married and in love never came up into the conversation. Slowly over time, Yuuri would slip one of the pictures he had taken down back on the wall, to try to jog Viktor’s memory, but the silver head would smile and laugh at the goofy faces he and Yuuri made together.

“We’re still close then!” He would tell Yuuri, “I’m so glad that didn’t change.”

Those sentiments always made Yuuri sob once he was alone in their room at night. So much had changed in those few seconds and it had been weeks since he had lost his loving husband who couldn’t keep his hands and eyes off him. Weeks had passed without the gentle kisses and the murmurs of ‘I love you’ being traded between them. It had been weeks since the doctors had slid Viktor’s wedding ring into Yuuri’s hand, requesting that he hold onto it until Viktor could handle processing the semblance of it.

The weight of Viktor’s ring hanging from a chain around Yuuri’s neck, tucked under t-shirts and coats had been heavy, but Yuuri couldn’t stand the idea of taking the necklace off no matter how much Yuri and Yakov had suggested (and begged in some cases). Taking it off was accepting that Viktor was no longer in love with him and that was accepting that maybe Viktor wouldn’t ever return that love once more.

And that was a thought that would be the end of Yuuri. So he kept the small gold band around his neck and smiled at the love of his life whose memories were lost.

o.O.o

“Let’s try that lift one more time before we call it quits.” Yuuri had been panting and he could swear he saw Viktor’s legs shaking slightly from exertion. They had been at their pair skate routine for the past four hours, stopping only long enough to take a drink of water and to catch their breaths.

“But, Vitya,” Yuuri had whined softly as he came to rest his head against Viktor’s shoulder, “It’s past ten and Yakov is expecting us tomorrow at the rink by six. Can’t we practice the lift tomorrow? We can go pick up some sushi for dinner.”

Viktor just chuckled and placed a soft kiss to his husband's hair, “As your lover that sounds beautiful, but as your partner and as your coach, I think we should just give one more go through. And then I’ll treat you to dinner and then a nice warm bath. How’s that sound my love?”

Yuuri felt a smile grace his lips before returning the kiss, “Alright coach. Once more and then I want my husband back. Got it?”

Viktor gave a breathy chuckle, “Your wish is my command, Yurashka.”

They both glided onto the ice and took their starting positions and started dancing on the ice to nonexistent music. The skated next to each other, in each other’s arms with beautiful grace, twirling softly to the silent beat as they both panted. Viktor helped pull Yuuri into a perfect triple axel and then they rejoined together once more on the ice as they went into a dizzying step sequence, locked in each other’s embrace. Yuuri could felt Viktor’s warm breath on his cheek and could smell the sweat and ruminants of Viktor’s after shave – the same smell he usually associated with the beginnings of making love to his husband in the dark.

Viktor’s hands went to Yuuri’s waist and he began to pull him up into the air as he went into a gentle spin. Yuuri met his husband's soft blue eyes and smiled. God, he loved this man so much. It was then that he saw those cheerful sweet eyes darken in surprise and worry. They were falling. Yuuri let out a yelp and felt Viktor cling to him tightly in his arms as they skidded backward, up against the side wall of the rink. Yuuri would’ve been sent flying if Viktor hadn’t pulled him close. He shut his eyes tightly as the sound of a noisy crack sounded and he landed on top of his husband’s chest. His heart was beating fast as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel himself wrapped up in Viktor’s limbs and he could hear the rapid beating of Viktor’s heart from where his ear was pressed against Viktor’s firm chest.

He opened his eyes and the first thing he was red. Blood was all over the ice, running from a gash from the side of Viktor’s head. Viktor himself was slumped in a heap.

He wasn’t moving.

He wasn’t making a sound.

“Viktor?” Yuuri clawed his way up his husband’s body, shaking his shoulder and patting his cheek to rouse him, “Are you alright? Viktor!?”

Still Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov laid still.

The rest of the night was blurred by ambulance lights and long hours of waiting in the waiting room. Yuri had turned up as quickly as possible with Yakov and Lilia in tow, all three of them at their wits end with worry. Yuuri had been wrapped up in Lilia’s arms, on the verge of sobbing. Yakov had put a strong steady hand on Yuuri’s shoulder as Yuri paced in front of them, throwing worried glances between Yuuri and the doors to the ER.

A couple hours passed and soon the news had been dropped like an atomic bomb.

o.O.o

“I’m not taking a break from skating.” Yuuri stared at the Russian coach in front of him with hard eyes.

“Yuuri, I don’t want you to either, but I’m not sure how much more you can take. We have the prelims coming up and with Viktor…” Yakov trailed off as tears welled in the skater's eyes.

“I-I don’t—.” Yuuri whispered as his eyes drifted down to the floor. It had been a week and a half since the accident and while Viktor was starting to come back to his normal behavior, his memories of his love for Yuuri were still nonexistent.

He felt a soft hand run through his hair, “Katsu, this is for the best.” Yuuri looked up at the sixteen-year-old who was speaking to him. Yuri Plisetsky had grown over the past few years not only height but in temperament too. Since Viktor had also taken on coaching the Russian skater and he had been taken under both of their wings, his angry persona had died down somewhat. He was calmer, more at ease.

The oceanic eyes stared into his own chocolate ones as Yuri set himself down beside Yuuri, slinging an arm around his shoulders as a means of comfort, “With the stress of trying to help Vitya and trying to train for the Grand Prix and going for your Masters degree, your way in over your head. You’re going to make yourself sick and if you do who in the hell am I gonna compete against at the GPF. Just take a break for a couple weeks,” Yuuri’s face must’ve shown some emotion that wasn’t what Yuri had wanted to see, because he then added, “Please, Yurachka.”

“Just a couple weeks and then you can go back to training full-time. You’ll be done with the semester by then and you’ll have some time to destress and figure some things out.” Yakov added with a strange sort of comforting tone.

“We’re worried Yura.” Yuri mumbled softly to him as he gave Yuuri’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

That was when the dam broke and tears came rushing to Yuuri’s eyes. He covered his face with his hands and curled into a ball on the chair in Yakov’s office.

“Please, please don’t take this away from me.” He cried as he felt two strong arms pull him close, “I’ve already lost my husband, please don’t take this away from me too.” Neither Yakov or Yuri said anything as Yuuri let out his tears. Yuri held him tightly close to him as Yakov came to sit on the other side of the boy, putting a rough hand on his head. They both knew that Yuuri didn’t need words; he needed to chance to sob without regret, a chance to let out his tears of worry, sadness and frustration that Viktor himself couldn’t handle.

The golden ring glinted in the soft lighting of the office as Yuuri was curled up into his ball and Yakov and Yuri’s eyes met, both filled with a sad softness. Both of them had been affected by Viktor’s memory loss to an extent, but the one that had been slammed the hardest was the Japanese skater. Yuri had been there when the doctor had slid the golden wedding band off Viktor’s finger, he had been there when the doctor handed the small golden ring to one of his best friends. He had figured that Yuuri had put it somewhere in the house, but he wouldn’t have thought that Yuuri would keep it on his person. It had made the whole situation even more upsetting.

o.O.o

It had been a sleepless night for Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. He had had a day off from training by Yakov, but he still accompanied Viktor to the rink to watch him practice. While the accident had been a couple months ago and he had seen Viktor skate multiple times since then, the anxiety in him had refused to let Viktor out of his sight when it came to the ice. He had sat on one of the benches along the side and watched as Viktor had started choreographing a routine for the next season (the same routine that he had choreographed before but had then forgotten). One thing that hadn’t been changed by the accident was the grace at which Viktor had skated. It was like he was still the same Viktor the morning before the accident when he was on the ice.

It was so breathtaking even after the years they had spent together to Yuuri.

But, it had also made him slightly melancholy as he watched Viktor do the same step sequence that Yuuri had helped him perfect a little over a year ago. It was the same step sequence that Viktor had used before the lift in their pair skate.

After practice, Viktor had been dragged off by Lilia for technique classes and Yuuri had stayed at the rink to watch Yuri practice some. Occasionally, he would call out suggestions to the younger skater, who would toss him a soft smile in return. The number of insults that Yuri would throw at him, whether joking or not, had decreased in the past few months which Yuuri had appreciated and yet missed. He wanted things to go back to the way they were. He missed the way Viktor would coddle him and Yuri would yell at them to get a room, which in return would just make Viktor cling to Yuuri even more. It was their own little family dynamics between coach and skater and between brotherly like friends and it was now that dynamic was almost non-existent.

It was almost painful to think on.

When Yuri’s practice was over headed back to the apartment where Viktor was waiting, curled up in a ball on the couch with Makkachin. He was humming to himself softly as he scrolled through something on his phone, smiling softly to himself. The smile itself on Viktor’s lips had made Yuuri smile softly in content, but then he remembered the smile that Yuuri had seen so often when he looked at Yuuri. He hadn’t looked at him in a long time with that soft sweet, “I’m head over heels for you” smile.

And it was that smile that was haunting Yuuri, keeping him from the realm of sleep. He knew that he needed to clear his mind, that alone would be the solution to his insomnia this evening. He had left a note on the door to the guest room where Viktor was snoozing and had grabbed his training bag. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to the ballet studio or the ice rink, but somehow he found himself on the ice, standing in front of the same spot where Viktor had lost his memories of the past two years.

If Viktor would’ve just let go of him. Viktor could’ve caught himself and been just fine. Granted, Yuuri might’ve broken his nose, but a broken nose would definitely heal; memories may not come back.

 _Deep Breath, Yuuri. You’re here to calm down. Don’t think about that_ , he told himself as he walked towards the door to the rink. He tossed his bag down by the door and pulled out his iPod, plugging it into the stereo that was sat by the wall. Music pieces flowed into the air as he glided onto the ice and skated in lazy circles. He wanted to get lost in the music and the flow of graceful steps and jumps. He wanted to stop existing even if it was just for the moment.

He was starting to lose himself when the song came on. Duetto (Stammi Vicino,non Te Ne Andare) was a regal piece; a score that had brought Yuuri and Viktor together in a beautiful dance of lovers longing to never be apart. He found himself dancing to the beautiful choreography that his husband had given him; the part of being a beautiful lover who had been down and sad until they had found true love. Tears pricked his eyes, but he skated like he was practicing, perfecting the routine for his beautiful Viktor, who loved the amount of step sequences that had been strung together.

He felt himself get lost in the music, letting the words flow through his mind as he danced with a melancholy-like sadness. He was a lover dancing on his own, his own lover lost in a whirlwind that had taken him. As the song came to an end, he came to a beautiful stop, looking up into the void of where Viktor was supposed to be smiling at him in loving clarity, but the space in front of him was empty and cold. Tears were flowing down his cheeks as he crumpled to his knees and covered his face on the ice. He missed his Vitya, his coach, his partner, his lover. He was simply half of a skating routine without the man that had become the center of his world.

He bowed lower to the ice, his sobs wracking his body. He was living in a world where Viktor’s presence wasn’t very prominent.

A warm hand carded through his hair softly before two strong arms curled around him. Yuuri gave a small gasp of surprise, but soon his tears intensified as he smelt the same smell of soap and Nordstrom cologne fill his nose.

Viktor. Warm, strong and gentle Viktor.

“Yura.” Yura. _Yura_. That was a name he hadn’t heard in his lover’s sweet voice in a long time, “I’m so sorry.” Yuuri clung to him and hid his face in Viktor’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Yura. Please don’t cry. I’m here now.”

“V-Viktor…”

“I remember Yurashka. I remember now.” The words made Yuuri’s heart stop for a moment. Viktor….remembered, “I remember loving you.”

Yuuri’s tears were practically choking him at this point as he clung to Viktor, “You remember me.”

“Y-yes. Oh God, Yura.” Viktor cooed softly as tears came from his own eyes, “I love you so much. Please, please know that I love you.”

“I-I love you to Vitya. So much. So very, very much.” Yuuri cried and looked up at the sky blue eyes that had captured his heart years ago.

Viktor smiled at him and leaned down to capture Yuuri’s lips in a soft sweet kiss, filled with longing. Yuuri hummed into the kiss as his and Viktor’s tears collided with each other. Both crying in relief and worry, in sadness and in joy.

Yuuri sniffled and pulled the small chain around his neck out from underneath his shirt and took it from his around his neck, “This belongs to you then…” Yuuri smiled and gave a watery chuckle as he placed it into Viktor’s palm. The shiny golden ring was finally back in Viktor’s possession and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel relief flood through him.

Viktor looked down at the small golden ring in awe, “T-This is mine?”

Yuuri nodded softly and looked at Viktor with worry once more, “Yes. Remember?”

Viktor hummed and slid the ring from the chain and then onto his finger, “I-I don’t remember the wedding or the engagement, but I remember us. I remember you.”

Viktor’s arms stayed around Yuuri and he stayed close to his lover. His Viktor wasn’t totally back, but it was a start. Viktor remembered him. He remembered them, together, and being in love. And for now, that alone was enough.

_He remembered us._


End file.
